by Chisala Kataya
A black princess, fearless as she is.
She a leather skinned woman because she was tougher than most.
She brown skinned and lovely,
Knows she’s more than worthy,
Doesn’t let any man tell her she’s lost.
Doesn’t walk on egg shells to satisfy Facebook comments or tweets,
She knows her strength.
Doesn’t need no petitions or demonstrations to only make things worse.
She a constant ball of body pains each month her body screams.
She doesn’t need your opinion or approval,
Like being black and woman is a choice she made,
And now keeps paying for.
Accept her sunshine and her rains.
Her weathered storm so much better than the ever raging world’s she lives in.
She black princess wakes up each day ugly, she thinks.
To wake up in a costume of black and feel like it was a shell to shed,
Like the day is only better when she feels the light on her skin,
But how will you see the stars if you shun the night dear girl?
She beautiful queen birthed by African earth,
Her hair course, And braided of course.
Her skin a dark ink drained from ancestral pens
Because with us there’s always a story, to be told.
Like being brown,
Goes hand in hand with the dirt,
And not the throne that you’ve forgotten you had,
Above that, straighten your crown,
And ignore the voices.
Take off your mask and see that you’re more than just broken pieces, inside.
Realize that we all see yourself inflicted cuts on your black,
Each time your mind torments you with thoughts,
That make you feel less of yourself.
Ignore the voices,
And claim what’s yours.
Show them you’re proud,
Let your hair grow,
Don’t hold on to inner sadness like you haven’t another choice.
Smile, and don’t cry,
Remind them you’re proud, fashioned by love.
Speak up, and dance,
Let your voice be that happy that shakes the trees.
Be a princess, happy, that princess.
A black princess,
That is fearless…that she is.